


America's Suitehearts

by sidnihoudini



Series: Chris Evans, Bride of the Antichrist [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Biblical References, Established Relationship, Hell, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:58:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: A day in the life, but in Hell.





	1. what a match, I'm half doomed and you're semi-sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go! [Moshi Moshi](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7093318) but for devils >:)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> breakfastwithdick asked: What’s Valentine’s Day like in devil verse?

Very romantic, but also:

The whole car jerks as Chris parks, aggressively stomping his foot on the break.

Filmore. He had to drive all the way out into the VALLEY at eight o’clock at night because SOMEONE couldn’t ever remember to look under rugs before stepping on them. Chris smacks the car door closed and walks across the parking lot, tugging his collar up around his face as he goes.

It’s a grocery store this time. Chris lets himself in through the automatic front doors, which are still functioning. He finds Sebastian in the back office.

“Kitten!” Sebastian exclaims, his entire face breaking out into a delighted grin.

Chris eyes the room’s other occupants: a lady and two men, all dead with their eyes fried out.

Everyone is pretty… expired, but Chris squats down beside the first guy and checks his pulse anyway. He squints over at Sebastian, unimpressed.

“I told you I was making dinner,” he says, ignoring Sebastian as he stretches both arms out and makes grabby fingers. “Everything is cold now!”

The lady’s back is maybe broken. She’s curved backwards like she fell over a garbage can. Chris frowns at her, checks her temperature with one hand on her forehead, and moves onto the last guy.

“They trapped me, peanut.” Sebastian gestures to the markings on the ground where he’s standing: a large circle, with a pentagram in the middle and some latin inscription around it. “Look, my good pants!”

He holds a foot out, and Chris frowns. His pant cuff is very sizzled.

It only takes Chris a minute to find some scissors in a desk drawer. Still not having it, he kneels down and scrapes away a chunk of the devil’s trap.

The amount of these things that Sebastian gets stuck in is not insignificant.

“Thanks, kitten.” Sebastian delicately steps out of the now broken circle. “What would I do without you?”

Chris gives him a look. But then he smiles.


	2. supra and the prophet are both in the business of souls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> imperatorrrrr asked: For a Devil prompt for Valentine's Day, how about Chris trying to be romantic for a special evening or summat, but failing miserably due to increasingly hilarious mishaps? Or a twist on that just Murphy's Law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong, but they sort it in the end even if it's in the middle of a grand ole mess?

Sebastian really hadn’t planned on getting trapped for Valentine’s Day.

Humans were terrible, deceitful creatures. That was not news. But those three, they’d seemed alright - at first, at least. Right until he’d stepped into that stupid trap, it had been a routine deal. The Store Manager wanted to make top branch in the Region that quarter - bad enough to sell his soul for it - so hello, of course Sebastian turned up with bells on.

He figured it would be an in and out job. Easy peasy. THEN he walked over the rug they’d used to cover their trap. They were pretty proud of themselves about that.

So Sebastian got mad and burnt their eyes out. He also might have thrown one of them around a little bit for Even Stevens.

Humans who thought they were clever enough to trick the devil were cute.

Now, Sebastian is getting the silent treatment. And, out of everything that’s happened tonight, this is the worst.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” Sebastian tries again, putting on his most wide-eyed, saddest expression. “I didn’t think they’d try any funny business!”

Chris hangs his jacket up and wordlessly continues through to the kitchen.

Frowning, Sebastian stands there, feeling like a fool. He looks up at Ham.

“He spent all afternoon in there,” the gargoyle helpfully explains.

Sebastian crabs back, “Stay out of it.”

In the kitchen, Chris is standing with his butt leaned against the counter as he eats a slice of pie off of a tiny plate.

“Kitten,” Sebastian tries, “I really am sorry.”

Apologizing about anything makes his skin burn, but this one is worth it.

“Sorry about what?” Chris narrows his eyes. “Be more specific.”

Well, that’s something Sebastian can work with. He raises his eyebrows, mouth hanging open as he thinks, and then starts talking.

“Angel, peanut, baby,” he begins, dropping down onto his knees dramatically. Chris pretends not to be impressed with him but Sebastian knows he’s at least a LITTLE bit into it. He raises his eyebrows and rests his chin on Chris’s hip. It’s the best hip. “I missed you. The whole time I was stuck, I was thinking about you.” It’s true other than the little bit of time he spent smiting those humans. “I’m sorry I missed dinner.”

Chris frowns, still mostly looking at his pie.

Then he gingerly breaks a piece off with the edge of his fork, and holds the mouthful out for Sebastian to bite.

“Stop getting trapped,” Chris tells him. “I get worried.”

Sebastian chews his pie and swallows. “I was fine, peanut.”

Not the point. Right.

“Can you reheat dinner?” Chris eyes the counter top, and then the oven. “The food is probably still good, but now it’s cold.”

Duh. Sebastian pretends to click his heels, and nods, “Done.”

Chris scrapes the last pie bite together with his fork, sticks it in his mouth, and then half turns around to set the plate back on the counter. When he turns back around, he scratches his fingers through Sebastian’s hair.

“Did you have to throw that lady around?” he asks, grimacing.

Sebastian groans, and climbs back to his feet.

Sometimes the silent treatment is actually not the worst thing ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then of course devil would get [some old-timey gifts](https://thenavynumber.tumblr.com/post/170332934754/artdetails-master-of-the-view-of-sainte-gudule) for the Mrs, too.
> 
> *
> 
> satan's valentines mix:
> 
> stupid cupid - connie francis  
> let's do it - cole portet  
> the lovecats - the cure  
> tenderoni - chromeo  
> the theme from shaft


	3. she's my winona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: I just want Mrs. Satan with the good boys that are Cabal and Baby Cinnamon!

Chris stands at the edge of the eternal fire pit with a grimace on his face.

“You just...” He trails off, and squints over at Sebastian. “Let them do this?”

He doesn’t know a lot about training dogs, but he’s pretty sure this could be considered bad taste. Chris turns back to look at Cabal and Baby Cinnamon, who are having a great time tearing it up in the Land of the Eternally Damned.

They’re both running circles around the pit - which happens to be writhing with people who are also a little bit on fire - and having the time of their lives. Every now and then, one of them will double back to pick an abandoned arm or leg up off the ground.

“They love it!” Sebastian laughs, picking up a head with both hands. “Cabal!” He pitches the face - which Chris watches BLINK - into the horizon. “Go get it!”

Chris toes at the ground, kicking away a couple of lone fingers, and accepts Sebastian’s hand when he holds it out.

Sunday afternoons in Hell are weird.


	4. my head's in heaven, my soles are in hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some lifeguard outfit sauce for @adios-esposito

Chris had been surprised to learn there are beaches in Hell.

“Of course there are,” Sebastian replied, after Chris brought it up one night. “Where else would the lotan live?”

That was-

“Ahh!” he yelps, involuntarily ducking down.

Above him, in the muggy Hell skies, a lazy, whale-sized creature paddles by. His tiny ugly fins flip to and fro as he floats.

Chris will never, ever get used to sea monsters casually floating through the skies of coastal Hell. He can deal with the endless pits of fire. River of the damned, sure. Snake trees? Why not.

But that - the primeval shape of them, and the way they feel so close overhead - Chris doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that.

He jabs his umbrella into the hellsand, and plops himself down under it.

“Sunscreen, kitten?” Sebastian appears in front of him wearing a pair of tight red hot pants with LIFEGUARD across the butt, and nothing else. “Gotta protect yourself from those hell-rays.”

Chris knows about hell-rays. He’s been travelling around to all the elementary schools to teach the children about hell-rays, and how important proper hell-ray protection is.

“Where’d you get the outfit?” he asks, already shuffling forward so Sebastian can get at his bare back. “I like the red.”

He might have a little bit of a Pavlov thing going on when it comes to that particular shade.

Sebastian settles in behind him, one hand already on his back.

“They’re all for you, peanut.” Chris smiles a little and looks down the beach, to where a demon is playing fetch with her hellhound. “I got them in black, too.”

That’s fun. Chris is gonna have to remember that later.


	5. let's meet in the purgatory of my hips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sadgrandpas asked: I can't get Prom Night sex + Devil AU out of my head? Prom dates back at least to the 70's right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YESSS. This is such a fun combo. I got your other message and don’t worry about it, this 100% totally works for devils, too.

It all started when Chris said, “I didn’t go to my senior prom.”

At the time, he hadn’t thought anything of it.

He knew a lot about Sebastian by now - including that one time in 1592 - and, vice versa, Sebastian had learned most things about him.

So as far as Chris was concerned, his shitty high school experiences had never deserved a second thought.

That is - apparently - where he’d been wrong.

“Welcome back to approximately 1959.” Scarlett’s voice is flat and she’s wearing a poodle skirt, which is a little too on the nose for the fifties, as far as Chris is concerned. There’s also a scarf in a knot around her neck. “I’m sure this is a night you want to revisit!”

Chris stares at her.

“Peanut!! You’re here!” Sebastian, dressed in an unfamiliar letterman jacket, throws an arm around the back of Chris’s neck and tugs him close for a kiss. As they separate, he pats Chris’s chest and grins. “You’re the guest of honor.”

Confused, Chris looks around - tinsel streamers, balloons floating from the ceiling, construction paper hearts, the whole nine - and asks, “Why?”

Scarlett reaches out to delicately brush some confetti off the top of his head.

“Dance with me, kitten,” Sebastian demands instead, and that’s when Chris realizes the letters embroidered into his jacket are C and E.

That’s really kinda cute.

He has no idea who any of these people are, but they seem pretty happy to see him, and he finds himself laughing as Sebastian tugs him into the crowd.

“I wanna know,” Chris tries again, raising his eyebrows. He rests his arms around Sebastian’s shoulders as they dance. “What’s all this about?”

Sebastian can’t get away from him now. He does try to distract Chris with another confetti canon popping overhead, but Chris doesn’t bite.

“You said you didn’t go to yours.” Sebastian shrugs one shoulder. “This was an easy fix, peanut.”

Well, jeez. Sebastian’s gaze goes all soft and goopy.

“These aren’t real teenagers, are they?” Chris asks, looking around a little paranoid.

Teenagers are scary.

“No, peanut.” Sebastian laughs, genuinely tickled, and tugs Chris in for another kiss. “They’re not.”


	6. and get well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I 100% forgot to include the sex part of the “prom night sex” prompt @sadgrandpas threw my way, so here she is, the mildly nsfw continuation of the previous prompt:

There’s so much chiffon Chris doesn’t know where to start.

“I liked the jacket better,” he pants, getting dragged into another kiss when Sebastian tugs him close by the chin.

They’re in-between two locker banks that line the long, endless corridors of Hell’s High School for Bad Ghouls - Sebastian’s preferred prom venue. Down the hall, past the open gym doors, prom, in all its 1959 splendor, carries on.

Sebastian laughs into Chris’s mouth. “This color brings out my eyes, kitten. Don’t you know how to compliment a girl?”

Chris makes Sebastian laugh again when he grimaces, unimpressed.

Because Chris is a nervous nellie, they only get up to some light hanky panky in the corridor. On their way back to the gymnasium, Sebastian tugs him in the boys bathroom by the hand, and then disappears into one of the stalls.

“You weren’t even wearing lipstick,” Chris grimaces, when he looks in the mirror over the sink and realizes he has bubblegum pink marks all over his face and jaw. He reconsiders. “Were you?”

Jeez. What a pain. He wets a paper towel.

The stall door swings open again, and Sebastian strolls out in his standard black jeans and leather jacket.

“Wanna fuck me on the sink, peanut?” he asks, catching Chris’s eye in the mirror.

Chris looks back at Sebastian’s reflection and realizes, for the first time, that he was - and still is - wearing pink lipstick.

He throws away the wet paper towel and says, “Make sure no one comes in.”

The jacket was great, the dress was fun, but jeez, nothing beats Sebastian just like this. Chris loves it when his jeans get all bunched down around his thighs. He rubs his face against Sebastian’s bare belly and pelvis, and then stands up for a kiss.

“Best prom of your life,” Sebastian pants, clearly pretty happy with himself as he rests one arm around Chris’s shoulders, and uses the other to steady himself against the sink.

Yeah, Chris thinks, gathering Sebastian’s legs around his waist. It was a pretty good night.


	7. you're a canary, i'm a coal mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> isabellajack asked: For the devil au prompts: I'd like to see something from Seb's pov and him being extra romantic and lovey dovey and taking valentines too seriously 

TECHNICALLY, yes, Sebastian could just zap together an arrangement of flowers, and, like everything else he bedazzles, it would be perfect. Chris probably wouldn’t even figure it out.

But you know what, that’s not the point. The point is-

“What do you mean you only get mistletoe in December!” Sebastian is genuinely flabbergasted. The florist stares back, slack-jawed, clearly not sure how to proceed. “How about spearmint?”

The florist stammers for a minute, and then finally raises his eyebrows, adjusts his tiny wire rimmed glasses, and manages a tawdry, “I’m afraid you’ll be looking at a special order for that, too, sir. Or, maybe…”

He trails off.

Sebastian is _not having it._

“What,” he snaps, voice flat.

Waffling, the florist hesitates, and then, not sounding too sure of himself, tries to help by saying, “Perhaps… you could visit a grocer for the spearmint.”

This little fu-

Sebastian catches himself. Chris would be pretty sour if he found out Sebastian had gone and smote a florist. Although this boob’s attitude _is_ just as bad as his inventory…

“Thanks.” Sebastian’s voice is tight. “I’ll try that.”

*

He should have just gone to Hellebore’s in the first place.

“Thanks, Mel,” Sebastian sighs, watching as his arrangement - mistletoe, cedar, and moonbeam coreopsis - is delicately assembled. “I owe you one.”

Mel, a man with a snail shell for a back and teeny little niblets of antlers poking out of his hair, shakes his head and jabs a couple more sprigs of mistletoe into Sebastian’s arrangement.

“You owe me nothing.” He flicks his hands out, demonstrating this. “Your mother, she was good to us.”

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitches up even though he doesn’t mean for it to.

Mel doesn’t notice, anyway.

*

“It’s nice,” Chris promises, regarding the arrangement again, but ultimately not getting it.

He pats Sebastian on the shoulder and smiles.

*

Next time, Sebastian is going to include his centuries worn copy of _Floral Emblems of Thought, Feelings, and Sentiments._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Victorians were [mega serious about their flower arrangements](https://www.proflowers.com/blog/floriography-language-flowers-victorian-era)! Seb requested mistletoe for a kiss, cedar for “I live for thee” and coreopsis for “love at first sight.” 
> 
> Mel is short for [Melampus](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Melampus), who in Greek mythology was a healer and animal protector. Hellebore is a species group of plants, which also translates to “eaten by fawns.”
> 
> Floral Emblems of Thought is [a Victorian flower dictionary](https://www.abebooks.com/servlet/BookDetailsPL?bi=21433356715&searchurl=yrh%3D1940%26bi%3D0%26ds%3D30%26bx%3Doff%26sortby%3D17%26kn%3Dvictorian%2Bflower%2Bdictionary%26recentlyadded%3Dall&cm_sp=snippet-_-srp1-_-title1), published in 1875.


End file.
